The morning light had barely begun to filter through the thick, black clouds hanging over Washington, D.C., casting a sickly glow on the battlefield. The tension in the air was palpable as George stood at the top of the stone wall, his hands clenched around his rifle. His forces, along with the U.S. soldiers, were spread out along the defensive perimeter, watching the horizon as the enemy army gathered for its next assault.
"They're coming," Jackie muttered, scanning the distance with her sniper rifle. Her usually calm demeanor was laced with a rare hint of apprehension.
George nodded grimly. "They won't stop until they've broken through every defense we have."
Behind him, Lucy adjusted her shotgun, her face set in a determined scowl. "Let them come. We'll give 'em hell before they even think about touching this place."
